Cabin Tales

Chapter 18

Marley: Present Day

I hated him. I hate that he showed up at the doorstep. I hated that he seemed like he genuinely cared about my well-being, even after I'd hurt him. I hated that I knew deep down that I would never actually hate him.

Daniel never needed to enter my life again, that was clear, but he did so anyways. It was like the earth was trying to put two puzzle pieces back together, and by the time they reached each other, it was too late. Over time, the pieces began to deteriorate, no longer fitting like they once did. And the thing about puzzles, you can't force two pieces together if they don't fit. So why couldn't he just stay away if we were already two broken puzzle pieces?

It had been a month since Daniel showed up at Gray's door. My apartment no longer smelled of smoke, but there was still brown tinting on the bathroom wall. Leaving my room was only getting harder, and I'd stopped going to a few of my classes because my professors hardly took attendance. The only person I'd been in contact with the past month was Ivy, and that was really only because of proximity. Even getting a hold of my other friends exhausted me, not that there were many to reach out to anymore.

Ivy's worried about me. She made it clear.

"You know, my brother takes Zoloft, and he loves it," she told me once. I had no doubt in my mind that an antidepressant helped her brother, but how would it help me? I wouldn't describe my mood as depressed, just bummed out. I also didn't have anxiety that needed to be treated. Why couldn't people just accept that maybe I was a little sad? It didn't need to go deeper than that.

My phone vibrated for the gazillionth time – most of them from Gray. Along with Ivy, he was especially worried about me. After Daniel's visit on his doorstep, Gray blamed himself for telling him what had happened at my apartment. Gray apologized to me profusely when I had never blamed him.

It was nearly midnight on a Saturday. I had no doubt Gray was probably drunk-texting me his apologies again. Ivy was out, as usual, so I was chilling alone in my bedroom. This seemed to be routine for our weekends, and I didn't hate it.

I picked up my phone and opened the lock screen. It wasn't Gray who had been trying to contact me; it was my dad. Scrolling through my contacts, I noticed that I hadn't spoken to my dad in months. I hesitated before finally tapping his name and calling him back.

"Dad?" My voice was barely a whisper as if I couldn't believe my dad would ever try to call me.

For a moment there, I didn't think he'd pick up because it rang for so long. I was about to get ready to hang up when I heard the ringing stop. All I could hear was his breathing on the other line before he spoke.

"Sweetie." His voice sounded choked up, and I definitely didn't know how to react. Over the summer, I was too busy to answer any calls during the day and then I'd forget about them by the time I was free. And, honestly, we weren't the most openly emotional family.

Panic took over my body. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

I thought because of my ignorance; that maybe my father was starting to hate me. Even if it wasn't intentional, I was the one who shut him out of my life. It was as if his existence slipped my mind completely. My own father.

He took a deep breath. "You know when you're trying to sleep, but your thoughts are all over the place? That's me tonight. Just missing my little family tonight."

A lump made its way into my throat, and I tried to swallow it down. My dad and I hardly ever shared our feelings, especially about my mom's death. It seemed like she was here one day and then very sick the next and then gone in a snap. It was such a quick process that neither my dad nor I had the chance to talk about it. The only time our feelings were truly revealed was at her funeral, and then I was off to North Carolina the following day.